


Russian Roulette

by Book_Lover93



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Heavy Angst, Love, Love Confessions, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Sex, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, Violence, sex with feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-06-13 17:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15369840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Book_Lover93/pseuds/Book_Lover93
Summary: They knew the risks. They knew that, if caught, there would be consequences. They knew the danger they were putting each other in. They knew all of that and more, and yet, here they are.One gun, one bullet, two people.Who will walk out with their lives?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my love of Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier and my obsession with heavily angsty fanfics, I bring you the first fic I've written after 4 years! (please be kind)
> 
> This entire fic had been planned in my head for years, but only now did I have the guts to write it down. Hope you enjoy it :)

He was inside an interrogation room. In the middle of the room there’s a metal table with two chairs facing each other on opposite sides. Grey walls, no windows, lights that are too bright on the ceiling. It’s only been a few minutes, but he feels it’s been hours… what the fuck is going on anyway? They told him to get inside and locked the door. He looks himself in the two-way mirror. His hair is longer, his beard is too. His eyes have bags under them but they’re always that same shade of blue they’ve always been, stormy. He sighs and looks away. He could never stare too long at his own reflection. It feels like everything in his memory would come back suddenly, like a wave that caught you off guard when you’re in the ocean, if he stared for too long…

 

The door unlocks suddenly, and he slightly jumps at the sound. When it opens, there’s captain standing in the doorway. The captain tells him to sit down in a deep Russian accent. He never liked Russian, it’s a harsh language, but he got used to it and can speak as fluently as any person born in the country now, even though he knows he wasn’t born there. But the again… he doesn’t remember where he was born…

 

The captain tells him to sit down again, breaking his reverie. He sits down on one chair and keeps his hands on his lap, his metal hand reaching for his pocket knife discreetly. He still doesn’t know what’s going on, but he sure as hell won’t be caught off guard.

 

When the captain is satisfied that he won’t move, he steps aside letting someone else in. A foot soldier marches in, holding a beaten down woman by her left arm and drops her on the chair across from him. He doesn’t react. Doesn’t move a muscle. He doesn’t need her to look up to know who she is. He’d know the colour of her hair anywhere…

 

She does look up and her eyes are fixed on him. One eye at least. The other is too swollen to even open. Here lips are bloody and bruised, her left cheek has a deep gash with fresh blood still dripping from it. This happened moments ago. His hands roll into tight fists on his lap, but his face remains as neutral has he can. He can’t react. He can’t show it…

 

“James” she whimpers, her voice is ragged, like she´s been screaming for hours without stopping. She heaves, its noticeable that she´s having trouble breathing. He looks up from her eyes. He can’t keep looking at them or he’ll break. Instead he looks at the top of her head and tries not to flinch. Her hair is mussed, puled in several places and some is drenched in blood. Her blood, he assumes.

 

He takes a steading breath, trying to keep it together. He looks up to the captain who’s silently watching both agents sitting at the table. The captain stares into his eyes, squints and purses his lips into a thin line. When he doesn’t react, the captain looks at the soldier and nods once.

 

The soldier takes out a revolver from his belt, opens it and lets the bullets fall out on top of the metal table. The woman flinches at the loud sound, but he doesn’t even blink. The soldier picks up one bullet and inserts it in the chamber, collecting the remanining bullets, closing the revolver and spinning it. He slams the gun in the middle of the table and returns to his previous position.

 

The captain looks at the both agents, one at the time. The woman is sitting up straight, trying not to cower but its visible that she’s struggling to stay upright. He wonders if she has broken ribs. Her ragged breath seems to confirm that hypothesis. He continues to sit like a statue. Unmoving, almost like he’s not even breathing.

 

“Prove your loyalty.” The captain says and nods for the soldier to leave as he leaves behind him. They shut the door and lock it again with a loud bang. When the echo dies, there’s only the sound of her breath filling the room. Her sobs start quiet, but her tears fall rapidly. She’s shivering in her seat. Whether it’s from cold or from fear, he doesn’t know, but if he had to guess, both.

 

Her clothes are in shreds. Her black t-shirt is soaked in blood and he guess that her pants must be too.

 

“James…” her voice is barely a whisper. If it wasn’t for his enhanced hearing, he would’ve missed it. He looks up into her eyes again and struggles to keep the neutral look on his face. Her eyes show nothing but pain and he want’s nothing more than to wipe that pain away with just a stroke of his thumb. She places her hands on the table and he can see the binding scars on her wrists, some old and with blood crusted over, but fresh ones are still bleeding, leaving traces of blood on the smooth reflective surface of the metal. He wants to reach out and hold her hands. But he can’t. He knows they’re watching.

 

She stretches her left hand out to him and he shakes his head, slowly. They can’t. They’re already in trouble. They can’t show more weakness. They can’t show weakness, period. Her hand stops at the middle of the table, next to the gun. She reaches for it, her hand shaking more than it already was. She sobs again, this time deeper. Tears run down her face as she looks at the gun and back at him. She looks unsure of what to do.

 

“Point it at me” he says. The first words he says. He says it in English, like he always does when they speak. He knows that whoever is watching them can understand him, but if this is the end, then he’s not speaking the language he was forced to learn.

 

She looks at him and shakes her head like a child, clutching the gun to her chest. “Point it at me”, he repeats, but she still shakes her head, her sobs becoming more frequent and desperate. In a cracked voice, in English too, she whispers “No… No…”

 

He sighs. He knows what’s going to happen. He knows that one way or the other, it’s going to happen. She needs to face this. To push through. He swallows in dry. He knows he’s trying to talk himself into being brave, for her. But he’s just as scared as she is. He just knows he can’t show it.

 

She’s still clutching the gun to her chest and shaking her head. Her bloody locks dripping on the table every time she moves her head. They need to get this over with. It needs to be done.

 

“Iryna…” he calls her. She looks at him and her eyes widen. “Iryna, point the gun at me.” He punctuates ever word, slowly. His eyes fixed on her. He needs her to understand.

 

“No” she answers, a little louder and stronger this time, “I can’t… I w-won’t, I…”

 

“Iryna. Now.” He says. “That’s an order.” Her eyes widen some more at his tone. It’s his commanding voice, one she knows she can’t disobey. But his eyes tell a different story. Behind the toughness and command, there’s fear, and pleading for her to do as he says. “Please” his eyes say.

 

She takes a deep breath that comes out in another sob. She closes her eyes for a moment and more tears spill out, but she does as he said. With her arm shaking from the strain, she points the gun at him. For a moment, all he sees is the barrel of the gun, but it soon disappears from his line of sight as she drops the gun on the table with a loud clang.

 

“I can’t, I can’t do it. I can’t… I’m sorry James, I can’t…” she sobs desperately her head falling until she leans her forehead on the table, sobbing.

 

He takes a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and closes his eyes for a moment. The gun is on the table, next to her hand and he reaches for it. A Nagant M1895, with 7 shots. An old gun, but still effective for the purpose its serving today. He spins the chamber again and points it at her. His hand is steady as he pulls the dog back. The clicking sound makes her lift her head, her eyes wide and in panic.

 

She swallows and takes another breath. Her shivering continues and there are goosebumps covering her skin. She looks at him and nods, ever so slowly, then closes her eyes.

 

He takes a deep breath again, his finger on the trigger and starts to squeeze it. His hand shakes a little when he looks at her again, eyes closed, hair a mess and plastered to her face with blood. Even when she’s looking like that, broken, bloodied and beaten, he can’t keep a straight head. He hesitates just for a few seconds, his memories betraying him. But he shakes his head to clear his mind. They must do this. They must. Someone isn’t leaving this room today. There’s no other way…

 

Head cleared, he points the gun again, directly at her forehead. If it’s to happen, let it be quick. She can’t feel pain. He won’t let her…

 

“Point at the right side of her chest” a disembodied Russian voice is heard from the speakers that makes them both jump in surprise. At her chest. the right side. They want him to point it at her lungs. Not her head, or her heart where it’ll be quick and painless. But her lungs, for her to drown in her own blood.

 

She sobs again, and her head falls a little. Tears still running down her face while he comes to terms with what he was asked to do. He points the gun again, lowering it a little and aiming for her right side.

 

1… he thinks back to the first time he saw her… 2… he puts his finger on the trigger and remembers the colour of her eyes the first time he really looked at her… 3… his finger squeezes the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song that inspired this chapter: Russian Roulette by Rihanna


	2. Chapter 2

The light coming in from the large window was scarce, indicating early morning. But by the grey look of the sky, there wasn’t going to be much light anyway, not even when the sun rose. Around the room, standing against the walls where 26 girls. All new recruits brought in by agents from all over the country. Girls that showed promise of becoming the next great asset for Russia’s secret intelligence. 

 

To the Winter Soldier, they all looked like statues. All still, dressed alike and looking forward. From his dark corner of the room he could see some of their faces directly, but most of them were in profile, so he couldn’t see their eyes. He couldn’t see if they were scared or determined. Not that it mattered a lot to him anyway, it was more to satisfy his curiosity (and to start doing what he was supposed to be doing as quickly as possible, so he could get out of here.) He was there to asses their training so far. To see if they still had the potential they thought they had in the beginning. To see if it would be profitable to continue their training, or not. He knew what happened to the girls that were cut from the selection, he just didn’t want to think about it.

 

“Number 2k675, step forward.” The woman calls out to the line of girls, all standing against the wooden wall. Eyes straight forward, unblinking. The young girl that was called takes one step forward and stops, her hand behind her, her posture flawless, red hair held up in a tight bun in the back of her head, not a hair out of place. 

 

“Pick your weapon and stand in the middle of the room.” The woman says again, and the girl walks to the table at the far end of the room that held an assortment of knives, guns, brass knuckles and cords. The girl picks up one of the cords and snaps it to test the resistance. Satisfied with her pick, she stands in the middle of the room. 

 

The Winter Soldier, almost invisible up until that point walked up to the girl and stood in front of her. He looks at her with disinterest and pushes a stranded lock of his hair behind his ear before lunging at her. The girl wasn’t caught off guard and moves quickly to counter his attack, her cord twisting around his left wrist and pulling it behind his back. The soldier shrugs off her defence by twisting to the same side she was pulling his wrist and aiming it to her right cheek, landing his punch and making her grunt loudly. She stumbles back a little but quickly regains her balance when the soldier pulls his arm back to punch her again. This time she ducks, pulling his caught wrist with her, making him loose his balance while she wraps one of her legs on his neck and pushes him down to the floor. She wraps her leg tightly trying to choke him while he’s on the floor but he’s faster, placing he’s hands on the floor to balance himself and pushing his legs up to stand up again, carrying the girl with him. She lifts off the floor and loses her hold in him. He grabs her before she hits the floor, her back against his chest and he holds her in a chokehold with his metal arm. He doesn’t need to apply too much pressure to get the girl to start losing her breath. She still tries to release herself from his hold but there’s no use, so she taps out. The soldier releases her, and she coughs. 

 

“Pathetic” said the woman, scribbling something on her clip board while the girl walks back in line. 

 

The soldier looks at the line of girls again and notices one looking concerned for the red head. When the girl he fought falls back in line, the other girl, with dark brown hair looks her friend over while the other brushes her fingers on the others arm. Its almost unnoticeable unless someone was playing close attention, as he was. The dark-haired girl looks up and sees him staring, falling into posture quickly, her eyes facing the front of the room, looking as neutral as she can. The soldier thinks that this is strange but says nothing, only reacting when the woman with the clipboard calls out another number. 

 

“Number 2k676, step forward.” The dark-haired girl takes one step forward and stops, awaiting further instructions. “Pick your weapon and stand in the middle of the room” the woman says in a monotone. 

 

“I would prefer not using a weapon this time, headmistress.” The girl says, a strong and confident voice coming out of her. Something he wasn’t expecting. 

 

“Why is that 2k676?” the woman asks, irritation dripping from her voice.

 

“I would just prefer to fight without a weapon this time.” The girl says, eyes straight forward. The red-haired girl behind her smirks a little but composes herself immediately before she gets caught. The headmistress, as they call her, grunts in response and orders 2k767 to stand in the middle of the room. She does and faces the Winter Soldier. 

 

He looks at her, from her feet to her face, examining all of her. She’s shorter than him, but not a lot. The top of her head reaching almost to his nose. Strong legs, not too thin. Her arms aren’t as strong though. She must be more of a runner than a puncher, unlike her red-haired friend. When his eyes reach her face, she’s staring at him too. Her dark brown eyes show a little fear mixed in with that sense of respect when facing an opponent, you know is more than capable to beat you. But at the same time, she looks confident in her skills, a little smug even. 

 

Like her voice, he wasn’t expecting her to look like that. Confident in her stance. He found it amusing. They must have been staring at each other for longer than they thought because the headmistress cleared her throat. 

 

Blinking away their distraction, both agents ready their stance for sparring. The girl takes a step back, right foot forward. So, she’s left handed, the soldier thinks. He prepares his body to fight as well but before he can even think about doing something, the girl is on him. 

 

She propels her left foot forward, hitting his right knee, making him loose his balance for a moment. Dropping one knee to the ground, the soldier is at level with her waist and tries tackling her and throw her to the floor. She evades him by taking a step back and he gets back on his feet. The girl has her fists in front of her face preparing her defence but her mid-section is unprotected. He lunges, but she quickly lowers one hand to stop him, leaving the other covering her face. He tries attacking her unprotected side again only to be stopped once more by her fast defence. He starts to get annoyed. She’s playing only defence, letting him do all the hard work first. She thinks she can tire him out and then make her move. Smart girl. 

 

Striking at her once more proves futile as once again she blocks him, but he notices that her feet aren’t in the most stable position. It’s a childish move, but the point of the exercise is to see if they’re good fighters. He takes a step forward and places his foot behind her left. She takes a step back, tripping on his foot and falling with her back to the floor, letting out a small “humpf” sound when she lands. 

 

Considering the fight finished, the soldier turns around and begins to walk away only to be surprised by both her legs closing around his feet, making him loose his balance and falling face first. 

 

There’s a loud gasp of surprise going around the room as the girls see the Winter Soldier falling. Some of them even look at the headmistress to see her reaction, but the woman doesn’t show a hint of emotion. 

 

Shaking his head, to clear the fogginess that appeared from hitting his forehead, the soldier looks behind him at the girl that just tripped him. At first, it looks like she was smiling, but when he looks at her, her face changes into uncertainty. She didn’t exactly “defeat” the Winter Soldier, but she didn’t exactly lose the sparring session either. When he starts to get up, the girl acts quickly. Pushing her hands against the floor, she jumps back up and prepares herself to continue fighting. Hands in defensive position, one foot forward, one back. 

 

The look on his face is unreadable, which she finds even more terrifying. He straightens his clothes and hair and starts moving towards her again. 

 

“Enough.” Calls the headmistress while writing in her clip board again, “back in line 2k676.”

 

The girl straightens herself and walks back to her previous place next to her friend. This time, they don’t react. But he can see that her chin lifts a little higher then before, her back a little straighter. 

 

The headmistress says the girls are dismissed and they all turn around simultaneously and head for the door in a single file. When the door closes behind the last one, the soldier turns back to the woman with the clip board. 

 

“The last two girls I just fought with, who are they?” he asks, his voice low but the words are precise and studied. He’s curious but he doesn’t want to show much of it. 

 

The woman flips through her papers until she finds what she’s looking for, “Assets 2k675 and 2k676. Both 21 years old. Brought in from Tomsk by agent Borisov, two months ago.” 

 

“How’s their progress so far?” he asks

 

“2k675 look promising, even though she didn’t show it today. but 2k676 isn’t doing well in the physical trials.” 

 

“How so?” he leans his hip against the table, arms crossing in front of his chest. 

 

“She shows no improvement. She’s fast, yes. But when it comes to one-on-one combat, well… you saw for yourself. Other than that, she’s a decent shooter, fast problem solver and is very comfortable around technology. She appears to be more of an “intelligence” asset then a field agent. Unlike 2k675 who shows great progress in field missions.” The woman concludes, looking up from her papers. 

 

The soldier listens to the woman and scratches his chin, thinking. 

 

“May I ask why the interest in those two girls? There are others that show significantly better results. Those two are not even on the top ten right now.” She says, her eyes searching the soldiers face for some sort of hint for all his questions.

 

“No, you may not ask.” He says, uncrossing his arms and walking towards the door, “Send them out to the sparring ring to meet me after training today.” 

 

“Which one?” the headmistress asks walking behind the soldier, almost running to keep up with him. 

 

“Both.” He says and disappears down the hallway. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gun clicks but there’s no gunshot. He releases the breath he was holding. 

 

She sighs in relief but is still shaking and crying. She opens her eyes to look at him and they both stare at each other for as long as they can. 

 

He tries to memorize her face again. The brown of her eyes, the shape of her lips, the plumpness of her cheeks. She looks pale, and the eye that isn’t swollen shut has dark rings around it. The more he looks at her, the more details come to his attention. Some details are because of the beating she took, which makes his heart ache and his eyes see red with the urge to kill whoever did that to her. Other details are ones he forgot where even there. Details he noticed at first, when they met, but now, he took them for granted and forgot about them. Now they seemed like the most important thing in the world. 

 

She was also looking at him intently. The blue eyes she knew so well where dark, pained and desperately searching her face for signs of that quick thinking that always came so natural to her. She’s a problem solver, that’s what she does. Every problem has a solution, even if it takes a little while to get to it. But not this time. They can’t work their way around this problem, can’t manipulate the rules, there’s no alternative exit. You either go by their rules, or you die. In this case, she started wondering if dying wasn’t really the best solution… 

 

He dropped the gun back on the table and pushed it to the middle. The sound of the drag of metal on metal broke her line of thought, bringing her eyes and mind back to the present. She wanted to stop sobbing and crying like a child, but she couldn’t stop herself, she couldn’t hold herself together. She felt herself crumbling under his gaze and those damned bright lights. 

 

She wondered for a moment if putting the gun to her head and pressing the trigger repeatedly would satisfy their needs to see someone dead. But she also knew that’s not what they wanted. They didn’t want quick, they wanted torture and pain. The pain of seeing to people torturing each other and themselves at the same time. 

 

She looked at the gun and back at him. He was starting to sweat a little bit. She could see the drops of sweat falling from his temples. He swallows again before speaking but his voice sounds wrong to her ears. Its not the soft deep voice she’s so used to. Instead it’s cracked and hoarse and not at all resembling the Winter Soldier, or the James she knew. 

 

“Pick it up and point it at me.” He says, going back to his first statement. She grabs her left wrist like her hand would reach for the gun on her own accord and sits up straighter on the chair. 

 

“Iryna. You have to do it.” He says, he’s sounding desperate now

 

“No. I won’t do it” she knows she sounds like a petulant child, but she’s beyond caring

 

“For fucks sake, Iryna! That’s enough! Pick up the fucking gun and point it at me, now!” 

 

“I said no!” she yells, tears still falling from her eyes, but the broken and scared expression turned to anger.

 

He sighs, “Iryna… please… just do it now.” He’s losing his strength and he can feel it. It’s getting harder to keep a straight face and hiding his emotions. 

 

Her eyes lock on his, saliently pleading him to not force her to do this. But when she sees that there’s no going back, she just wipes her nose with the back of her hand and reaches for the gun. 

 

Her hand shakes when she lifts it and starts pointing it at his chest. He takes a deep breath to try and calm his heart, that feels like it’s going to burst out of his chest. He closes his eyes, preparing himself for the shot but hears something else entirely…

 

“Do you…do you r-remember… Edinburgh?” she asks softly, her hand still shaking but pointing the gun at him.

 

He opens his eyes to look at her. He’s a little confused as to why she’s talking about a mission, but when he looks at her he understands. 

 

“The snow…” he says, as softly as she did

 

“in Arthur’s seat…” she replies, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips

 

He swallows back his tears before answering again, “… yeah… I remember…”

 

“We could… we could g-go back… sometime…” she says, pulling the hammer from the gun back, clicking it into place. 

 

His breath comes short now, his chest tightens. He closes his eyes again and thinks back to all those years ago, the mission she’s talking about, that ended being so much more…

 

He hears her holding her breath. The room is so quiet he’s sure he can listen to both their heartbeats.

 

He silently starts counting again… 1… he sees her face, smiling and with her cheeks red from the cold… 2… he remembers the touch of her hand on his when she almost fell off that rooftop… 3… deep breaths…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that has left kudos so far!!! If you liked the first two chapters, let me know in the comments! 
> 
> As you noticed in the last chapter, I get inspired by listening to music so almost every chapter will have a song that inspired me to write it :) 
> 
> Unfortunatly I don't have a song for this chapter, because it was inspired by a series of ideas that just came to mind. But next chapter I'll post the song/songs that inspired me. By the end (whenever that may be) I'll post the full playlist :) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this new chapter and constructive criticism is always helpful!!


	3. Chapter 3

After several months of working and training with the Winter Soldier himself, Iryna Dmitriev felt like she was ready to stop a fucking tank all by herself. Never has she felt so strong and confident in her own body and with her own skills. She’s still not as good of a fighter as Natasha, but she can handle her own when it’s necessary.

 

When Hydra’s Fist had requested their presence in the sparring ring all those months ago, Iryna was sure that that would be the end for both her and her friend. She thought, for sure, that they were going to get cut from the selection, killed right there. 

Instead, he didn’t say anything else except “give 50 laps”. At first, they thought that it was a joke. But when he just stared at them and waited, Natasha and her just did as he said. After that, the orders just continued. No other words were spoken between the three of them except commands and corrections when necessary.

 

The Solider worked both of them hard enough to make them feel faint. Every day, for months, they would finish their normal training with the rest of the girls and then, after a light meal, they’d go the ring and continue training with him. They did every sort of exercise in the books, trained in multiple fighting styles, used all sorts of weapons. In the midst of all the rules, commands and constant reminders, there was one rule that the Soldier was insistent on: Between the three of them, never speak Russian. Only English. At first, the girls tried questioning the reason. But when they realized that there wasn't going to be an answer, they gave up. 

 

To say that the girls felt confused, was an understatement. Was he doing this with all the other girls? Was everyone training like this? Was it their way to see if the assets were worthy of continuing? But as the months went on, and the initial group of 26 girls got cut down every month to just 5 (Natasha and Iryna included), the girls realized that the Winter Soldier had seen something in them that was good enough to save them from being cut. What he saw, they didn’t know, but whatever it was, Iryna was just thankful they were still alive.

 

But even having her and Natasha’s survival as a top priority, Iryna couldn’t deny that that she felt a little sense of pride to be training with a legend. 

 

They’ve all heard the stories. Of the mysterious Winter Soldier, Hydra’s Fist, the man from a different century that was frozen and brought back to do Hydra’s bidding. It was intimidating and amazing at the same time.

 

Natasha, however, didn’t share her enthusiasm.

 

“He scares the shit out of me” her read haired friend said, sitting crossed leg on the bed, eating and entire bag of gummy bears, that she got at a convenience store across from the safe house, by herself.

 

“You’ve been training with him for months now. How can he still scare you?” Iryna asks, her eyes focused on her computer. 

 

She was looking at the blueprints of the building they needed to break into for their mission. She’s been over those blueprints a thousand times by now (according to Nat), but better safe than sorry. Nothing could go wrong with this mission. Nothing.

 

“Well for one, he doesn’t talk. Two, he has zero facial expressions. Three, he’s the fucking Winter Soldier. What more reasons do you want?” Natasha replied, with a mouth filled with gummy bears. 

 

Honestly that girl ate so much crap and never got sick. If Iryna ate that, her stomach would be having an all-night rave that would end up throwing up its contents for the rest of the night.

 

Iryna just hummed at her question, not paying close attention to her friend anymore. She checked her notes, again, about the building just to make sure she didn’t forget anything. Escape routes? Check. Security cameras locations? Check. Control rooms and electricity panels locations? Check and check. Now moving on to supplies for the mission: guns with enough reloads? Check. Knives and daggers, all sharpened and ready? Check. Smoke bombs, hand grenades, binoculars...

 

“Iryna? Iryna! Are you listening to me?” Nat sounded annoyed and was preparing to throw a pillow at her friend when the sound of the door opening, and closing made them both jump.

 

The Winter Soldier walked in the safe house, bringing with him the freezing winter air of Edinburgh with him. Dressed from head to toe in night gear and pulling off his night vision goggles at the same time. Iryna briefly wondered where he’d been for the last 3 hours but bit her tongue at the question.

 

He looked at both girls sitting in different corners of the one-bedroom apartment and moved towards the small table where Iryna sat, papers scattered across it, her computer and several different coloured pens, used to highlight important information.

 

“Status.” He said. His voice deep and contained. He always sounded, and looked, like he was struggling with something. Some invisible enemy that made Iryna feel sorry for him, but at the same time feel wary that he might explode at any second.

 

“Everything is ready, and triple checked, sir. If everything goes according to plan, then Agent Romanoff will have no problem in taking out our targets, collecting the information and get out without being compromised.” Iryna spoke with caution and slowly. She was confident in her intel work, and the mission would go smoothly. But at the same time, she was worried about her friend. About herself as well.

 

This mission was their “make or break” point. If they succeed, Iryna and Natasha would become official Agents of Russia’s Secret Intelligence agency. They’d be spies. If they failed, it was the end. 

The Soldier nodded, turned around and moved towards the small bathroom, closing the door behind him.

 

Natasha released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and looked at Iryna. Both girls stared at each other having a silent conversation. They felt the weight of the world on their shoulders. The importance of the mission, what it meant for them. They also knew the importance of being trained by a legend. How, if they succeeded, they would be regarded from here on out. The expectation that was hanging over their heads, ready to lift them into higher ranks and a (somewhat) secure future, or to crush them under its weight.

 

Feeling ready to freak out completely, Iryna decided to call it a night. It was already 3am and their target would only arrive at the site in 16 hours. They’ve made all the preparations needed and now, all they had to do was wait. They knew their jobs and what they had to do. 

Iryna was going to be Natasha’s eyes and ears, while her friend would be the field agent, carrying out what needed to be done.

 

The mission was simple: at 7pm, an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D would arrive at the Scotsman Hotel with a briefcase. Inside the briefcase was information about several other S.H.I.E.L.D agents, scattered around the world, their ranks, missions, mission statuses and exact locations. This information was going to be passed on to one of the directors of S.H.I.E.L.D who was currently in hiding for some reason unknown to both Iryna and Natasha. Apparently, that information was “classified”, as the Winter Soldier put it, and all they needed to know was that this was a one-time opportunity to get both valuable information AND an important member of S.H.I.E.L.D, out in the open and together. To objective was to get the information and to kill both agents. Natasha’s job was to find the agent, inside the hotel, observe the exchange, take down both the agent and the director, get the case, get out. Iryna’s job was to walk her through the ins and outs of the hotel layout and warn her if her sensors caught any other agents in the proximities. The Soldier’s job was to observe. Sounded simple enough.

 

Natasha had already crawled into bed and made room for her friend to climb in next to her. Since there was a queen-sized bed and a large couch, the girls took the bed while their handler took the couch. 

 

Neither of them was comfortable in sleeping in the same room as the Winter Soldier, but no one said anything. Both girls settled in to what, surely would be a short night of sleep, but they knew they had to be rested and alert for the next day.

 

Natasha fell asleep quickly but Iryna continued going through plans and schematics over and over in her head. When she heard the bathroom door open, and the Soldier walk out, she closed her eyes and pretend to be sleeping. 

 

Sensing he wasn’t paying attention to them, she slowly opened her eyes and was met with a sight that made her flinch in pain.

 

He was standing next to the couch, searching for something inside his bag, his back turned to her. He looked huge and threatening when he had his armour on, but without it, Iryna felt her chest tighten when she saw the multitude of deep scars that covered his back and shoulders, the worse ones on his left side, where his flesh ended, and his metal arm began. The girl knew some rumours about how’d he gotten that arm, and what they did to him in the beginning, but she didn’t know how much of it was true and how much was just ghost stories shared around a metaphorical campfire. But she was aching to know the truth behind his story. If only she could ask him directly...

 

Iryna saw the man tense and turn around to look at her, but she closed her eyes again. This time she kept them closed and let sleep take over her as she forced herself to stop thinking about rumours and ghost stories. She felt exhausted, so sleep came fast.

 

The Soldier knew one of them was awake. He could feel her eyes burning holes in his back. When he heard her breath hitch at the sight of his back he turned around but both girls had their eyes closed. He knew there was a risk they’d see him in a vulnerable state, but this was the only apartment they could find across the street from the hotel which gave them a prime location to see the main entrance of the hotel and the service entrances on both sides.

 

He turned around and continued searching for his book. He found it at the bottom of his bag, under his back up gun. He pulled it out, threw the bag on the floor and sat down on the couch, on the side of the window. There was a street light right next to the window, which gave him enough light to read without having to turn on the reading lamp, that was next to the couch. He couldn’t remember much about his life before Hydra, and the missions, but he did remember he liked reading. American western novels in particular. He had no idea why, he just knew they helped him block out all the horrible images that were constantly swarming his brain all day, every day.

 

One terrible image in particular had been haunting his dreams in these past months. Between all the dreams of dead people and endless years of torture, blood and screams, he saw a woman with dark brown hair falling from the top of a building. He’d run as fast as he could to get to her, to save her, but the exact moment he reached her and tried grabbing her hand, she’d slip and fall to her death in a horrible, gut twisting scream that had him waking up, drenched in sweat and screaming as well. He didn’t know who she was or what that dream meant. All he knew was that it was making him insane. More insane that he already felt.

 

He shook his head to clear it from those thoughts and tried focusing on his book. 

 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep so he might as well do something that would help him relax a little bit. But no matter how hard he tried, his eyes kept drifting up towards the bed with the two sleeping girls on it.

 

In their sleep, they had moved closer to each other and the red-haired girl, Natasha he said to himself, was spooning the brunette, Iryna.

 

He didn’t know what he’d seen in them when he requested to train them, personally. He still didn’t know what came over him to do that. All he knew was that there was something about them, their relationship, their dynamic, that made the Soldier feel like they couldn’t be apart from each other. They were a team. And to train one without the other would be the death of both. He was curious about that and he didn’t know why seeing them together made his head hurt. Like his brain was trying to tell him something that he couldn’t physically understand what it was. Something from his old life...

 

He felt protective of them. Like he needed to keep them safe. He felt it in his heart, like an ache.

 

He watched them sleep for longer than he realized. It was almost dawn, and the night sky was starting to take on that pale grey morning light. He watched as their faces became clearer in the light, and how Iryna slept so still she looked almost dead, with the covers pulled almost all the way up to the top of her head, leaving only her dark brown curls showing, while Natasha slept like a hurricane, constantly moving, one leg out of the covers and her arms over her head. Both girls were so different from each other, complete opposites, and yet it worked. They completed each other in a way he thought was strange and yet so familiar at the same time.

 

Iryna was the first to wake up, opening her eyes slowly and blinking them a couple of times before focusing on him. She looked at him with such intensity that it made him squirm under her gaze. Like she could see right through him at everything he thought about while they slept. But even though he felt uncomfortable, he couldn’t look away from her. Her deep brown eyes drew him in like she was trying to tell him something by just staring at him. The ache in his heart returned, the feeling of protectiveness, the urge to keep them safe.

 

When Natasha stirred awake as well, Iryna and the Soldier looked at each other with a new meaning.

 

“Time to get to work.”

\-----------------------------------------------

“Fourth floor is cleared” Natasha’s voice could be heard from the computer speakers and Iryna typed furiously on her computer, checking all security cameras for any suspicious activity that could put her partner in danger.

 

At exactly 7pm, they saw the agent they were expecting entering the hotel through the left maintenance entrance and Natasha had followed him all the way up to the sixth floor. But after she lost sight of him for one second, he was gone. And now they ha to work their way through eliminating floors one by one as fast as they could.

 

Something caught Iryna’s eye on a security camera, two floors below where Natasha was.

 

“Shit. Nat, drop two floors, the package was delivered. New target is wearing a black ski jacket, with a fur lining. Move!” Iryna called on her own microphone.

 

“On it” Natasha dashed to the nearest emergency exit and flew down the stairs, reaching the second floor.

 

“Turn right outside the emergency doors and left at the elevators.”

 

On the security cameras, they saw Natasha do as instructed. The Soldier was behind Iryna, watching everything happen on the screens, his muscles rigid and aching to be outside, where the action was.

 

“He’s going down the main stairs now.” Iryna said, making Natasha run faster

 

“Nat, you’re losing him!”

 

“Not helping, Iryna!” the other girl hissed. She was running as fast as she could, drawing attention to herself when she ran down the stairs, two steps at the same time, and landed in the lobby. 

 

“On your left!” Iryna was sitting so far on the edge of her seat that the Soldier thought she was going to fall from the chair. He placed his hands on the back of it, his fingers twitching with anxiety as he saw Natasha run across the lobby to the man who just left through the side exit and ending in the alley.

 

Natasha tackled him to the floor, trying to grab his briefcase but he just spun around and landed a punch in her stomach, making her double over in pain. She regained her strength quickly and punched the man in the chin and again in his nose, making blood pour out of it.

 

When Natasha managed to get back on her feet, with the case in hand, and land a kick to the man’s groin, Iryna almost jumped out of her chair with excitement. She saw her friend grab the gun from her belt and point it at the man.

 

In a blink of an eye, Natasha was surrounded by agents that came out of nowhere, all of them pointing guns at her. It was a trap.

 

“Shit” both girls said at the same time and the Soldier knew the feeling.

 

Fast as lightning, Iryna slammed her computer shut, slid it inside her back pack and ran for the door while sliding her arms around the straps and grabbing her snipper riffle.

 

The Soldier followed her as she ran as fast as she could to the rooftop and slamming against the door for it to open. As soon as she was outside, Iryna ran to the edge of the building to get a clear view of the alley and a clear shot to try and save her friend.

 

She settled into position, taking aim at the alley as she saw, in panic, as her friend was cornered by seven agents, plus the one they were after.

 

“Nat, I’m up top and I got a clear shot. Is the package secure?” Iryna was breathless and her fingers were shaking as she looked through the scope of the riffle.

 

He watched as Iryna adjusted her sight and placed her finger on the trigger. All three of them were using ear pieces to hear each other and microphone on their clothes to talk. the Soldier and Iryna heard as Natasha tried to regulate her breathing, surely feeling more than a little scared.

 

Iryna saw Natasha lift the case up to her chest and hugging it, giving her a signal that she had what they came from, now they just needed to get her out.

 

Taking a deep breath, Iryna fired the first shot directly into one of the agent’s head. There was a pink mist behind him, and his body dropped to the floor, making all the others around him turn to the direction of the shot.

 

Not two seconds later, another body hit the ground. The agents scrambled to get a view of the shooter which gave Natasha enough time to get her own gun and shoot another agent in the leg and hit another with the case, sending him against the alley wall. Having a clear path to run, Natasha did just that.

 

Seeing her friend cleared and on the run, Iryna fired two more shots, one to the agent they were after in the beginning, another to a female agent who was aiming at Natasha’s back. Both bodies hit the floor, unmoving.

 

Iryna grabbed the rifle and got up, getting ready to start running back from where they came. When they turned around, there were four agents blocking their path.

 

She saw the Soldier tense up next to her and she knew what that meant. 

 

Even before the agents took their first step, Iryna dropped the rifle and ran towards them, faking a move to her right she caught the agent off guard and punching him so hard he stumbled back through the door and fell down the stairs. One down, three to go.

 

As another agent made his way to Iryna, the other two tried taking on the Winter Soldier. 

 

The agent that came at her was a lot bigger than her, but his moves were slower. And she guessed that the amount of gear he was wearing, wasn’t helping his moves either. Using her smaller body to her favour, she evaded his attacks several times, landing a few punches. As she pulled her arm back to throw another, the agent grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back, making her scream.

 

The Soldier looked up from his fight seeing, hearing Iryna scream and one of the agents managed to grab his knife and stab the Soldier on his right shoulder. He flinched a little but immediately grabbed the knife, pulled it out and stabbed the same agent in the stomach, making the man grunt as he fell to his knees. The second agent made a move on the Soldier again, but he was faster, grabbing his arm and twisting the agents body until he back was to the Soldier’s chest. with his metal arm around the other man’s neck, his life was snuffed out quickly.

 

Iryna was still struggling to get away from the agent when she saw the Soldier moving towards them. Lifting her left foot as high as she could, she slammed it down on the agent’s toes, making the man behind her yelp in surprise and release he wrist. She turned back and punched him in the bridge of his nose, making him stumble backwards, confused. She got her knife out of her holster and lunged at the man, stabbing him in his right arm and his left leg, making him drop to his knees in front of her. Quick and deadly, her knife slashed the man’s throat, making him hold on to it as the life drained out of him.

 

The Soldier had stopped moving towards Iryna to watch her fight and when she turned back to him, his face was a mixture of awe, pride and concern. She didn’t know if she should feel happy or embarrassed that he was staring at her with such a weird look on his face.

 

Natasha’s voice broke her thoughts as she shouted in panic for her friend.

 

“I’m here Nat, I’m okay.” Iryna said, her hand going to her ear to push the ear piece in to hear better.

 

“Oh, thank God!” Natasha sighed, “Don’t scare me like that, woman! I’ll kick your ass!”

 

Iryna chuckled and said that they were going back down to meet her, but upon hearing more people coming up the stairs, the Soldier and Iryna swore at the same time. How many S.H.I.E.L.D agents where there?! They looked like fucking cockroaches!

 

Iryna looked over at the Soldier and his face was turned to his left side. Iryna followed his gaze and saw what he was looking at. The next rooftop of the next building wasn’t that far away and if they got the right momentum, they could jump to the other side.

 

“You have GOT to be kidding me?!” Iryna yelled at the man beside her and he looked back at her. He just shrugged and asked, “Got any better ideas?”

 

The girl was surprised that he spoke, but it was short lived as the other agents started coming through the door. The Soldier started running as fast as he could and jumped. Iryna watched in wonder as he landed on the other side and stood up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath and started running just as the agents almost reached her. Putting as much strength as she could on her legs, the girl reached the edge of the building, closed her eyes and just jumped.

 

For a moment, the feeling was incredible. Like she was flying. The next, something hit her left side and then next thing she knew she was falling. She opened her eyes and saw the edge of the other building getting closer, her brain too slow to process.

 

She smashed against the edge of the building crying out in pain and Natasha’s voice screamed in her ear. There was another voice screaming her name, deeper and manly, but Iryna was in too much pain to process it. Her hands grabbed the stone desperately, but she could feel herself slipping. She was going to fall. She was...

 

A cold hand grabbed her right wrist and Iryna looked up into the Soldier’s eyes. They were in panic, searching hers for injury. Without very little effort, he pulled her up from the side of the building and lift her up into his lap, her legs wrapping around his torso while his right arm went around her waist to support her. Letting go of her wrist, the Soldier drew his gun on the agents and started emptying the magazine on them while backing up to the fire escape stairs of the building they now stood on.

 

There was something warm oozing out of Iryna’s left side and she could feel it soaking her clothes. She felt weak and faint and the sounds around her where beginning to sound far away. There was one sound, above all other’s that she couldn’t understand what it was, but it was soothing, and repetitive, like a dream... “...me... stay... Iryna...” was all she could grasp as she felt herself falling into unconsciousness.

 

When she opened her eyes again, it was cold. So cold. She could feel it in her back and on her left side. She was on the floor and the floor was freezing. Where was she? It was dark around her, but she could hear two sets of voices, whisper-shouting at each other.

 

“This was a fucking trap you got us into!” Nat?

 

“I had no idea that there would be so many agents here! My information was the same as yours!” that was a man’s voice she heard. What was going on?

 

“The fuck it was! Don’t give me that shit! My friend is bleeding out on the fucking snow because you didn’t give us the right information! She’s going to die because of you!” yep, that was definitely Natasha.

 

Iryna tried calling out for her friend, but all she managed to do was cough. Almost instantly, two sets of eyes were staring down at her, one pair green and the other blue.

 

“Shhh, sweetie, don’t try to speak. It’s okay, I gotcha” Natasha ran her fingers through Iryna’s dark locks and saw the snow melting into it.

 

“W-where a-are we?” Iryna tried to speak, but she was so cold, her shivering made it hard for her to formulate words.

 

“On top of Arthur’s seat.” That was the Soldier speaking. She didn’t know if it was from the blood loss, or whatever, but if that was his real voice, deep and smooth like dark chocolate, the Iryna never wanted her handler to shut up again.

 

“We called in an extraction. There’s a helicopter coming for us. They’re ten minutes out” Natasha said, still brushing her hair, trying to soothe her.

 

“I-I’m c-c-cold” Iryna shivered again, her teeth clicking so hard it was starting to make her jaw hurt.

 

Before Natasha could react, the Soldier sat down crossed legged on the floor and pulled Iryna to his lap, wrapping his arms around her, rubbing her arms, trying to keep her warm.

 

She leaned her head against his chest and tried to relax by hearing his steady heartbeat. He lowered his chin and brushed his lips on the crown of her head. she could hear him humming something that sounded a lot like “please... please don’t do this...”

 

When the sound of a helicopter reached their ears, Iryna had fallen into unconsciousness again, lulled by the heartbeat of the Winter Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long chapter :/ but let me know what you thought! 
> 
> Songs that inspired this chapter: Together by The XX; Wreak Havoc by Skylar Grey


	4. Chapter 4

When the gunshot of the second try wasn't heard, the Soldier closed his eyes and took a deep breath again. He had to stay calm, for her, for himself, for them. But listening to Iryna cry, shattered his heart into a million pieces. He would sell his soul to the devil if that what it took to stop that sound from ever passing her lips again. 

Opening his eyes again and staring at the woman in front of him, his fingers ached to touch her, to hold her, to run his fingers through her dark hair. He couldn't see her face. She had her head in her hands, elbows on the table, sobbing quietly. Her whole body was shaking like it had electricity running through it. Oh how he ached to make it stop, to make the pain go away... 

"I-I'm s-so s-s-sorry" he heard her sob. She was repeating the phrase in a soft tone, between sobs, like a prayer. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat that was threatening to come out in a sob as well, and blinked his eyes a few times, holding back the tears that were ready to escape. 

"Iryna... look at me, please" he said, his voice surprisingly steady. But if anyone could see his hands on his lap, they could see his fist rolled up so tightly that the fingernails on his right hand were starting to break skin. 

With another sob, Iryna lifted her head and stared at the man in front of her. He looked like the perfect representation of calmness, his eyes being the only thing betraying his true feelings. She could see that. When her head tried to tell her that he didn't care, her heart knew different. How could he not care? They were in this together. He hadn't lied to her during all this months. She knew that. The Winter Soldier would lie to her, but not James. Not her James. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for" he whispered. 

That almost made her smile if it wasn't too painful on her lips, "Don't I? I'm-I'm the r-reason w-we're here" the last word was almost inaudible, but he heard it. 

"That's not true" How could she be blaming herself, he wondered. WHY was she blaming herself? 

"It is" she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, "It is true... You warned me of the risks, s-several times"

"I knew the risks too... this isn't your fault, Iryna" 

"You said we should stop, remember? Before Paris? You said t-that... it was too dangerous, too risky... I should've listened to you..." 

He did remember that. He also remembered what happened next. And how that was entirely his fault. He was the one that couldn't bare the sight of watching her walk away. He remembered that day, like he remembers every day spent with her before and after that. The one good thing he can take out of the hell they live in. The one speck of light in his dark world of blood and mayhem. He remembered the touch and taste of her skin, and the sound of her racing heart. The feel of her quickened breath on his neck, and her hands on his back holding on so tight he had prayed to whatever god there was a above that her nails would leave marks, so that he could carry her with him all the time. So that whenever someone saw those small scars, they would know that the only person he belonged to, was her. He remembered the look in her brown eyes, pupils so large they were almost black. She was gorgeous, but on that day she was magnificent to him. 

He took a calming breath after going through that memory. If he kept going back to those days, he was sure he would break. 

"Then... in that case..." he tried speaking, but his mouth felt dry. He wet his lips with his tongue and tried again, "Then is that case, I should've listened to you too. Like I always should. What was it you used to say? "Start listening to me Soldier, and you'll live longer."?" 

That got him a small chuckle and a wince from her in the same second. She tried smiling again but it didn't reach her eyes. 

For a few minutes, they didn't talk. The silence, as always, was filled with meaning and memories around them. They both knew what the other was thinking, what they were trying to say to each other. A thousand words, in a single stare. 

None of them knew what the outcome of this would be, but they tried their best to commit the other to memory. They didn't want to miss a thing. He didn't want to forget her big lashes that brushed the top of her cheeks when she closed her eyes, and she didn't want to forget the small specks of grey that mixed in with the blue of his eyes. 

After a while, she took a deep breath and sat up straight in her chair. Tears were still rolling down her cheeks, but her breathing had slowed down. Her body stopped shaking except for the small tremors still in her hands. She was ready again. 

The gun, was the proverbial elephant in the room. One that weighed both the table and them down and none of them could ignore. 

He reached out one more time and stared at the gun in his hands, trying to come to terms with he was about to do. 

Two shots of seven, were down. Five shots remaining. But was it really going to be five shots? Would it end now? Or with the next shot? The unknown was killing him and he felt the rage he was trying to bottle up, trying to resurface. To use his left hand to crush the gun and let them come for him. He'd killed them all. He would. Crush their throats like one crushes an insect. He would kill them all and... 

"She was right, you know..." Iryna's voice broke his enraged thoughts, bringing him back to her. His eyes no longer seeing red. 

"What?" He asked, not understanding what she meant

"She was right" Iryna repeated, "About us... when she said that... we were idiots. And that history and novels had predicted the end of this again and again..." Iryna smiled a bit at a memory he didn't have, but he knew who she was talking about. He fought his own mind to try and stop the small smile that was also tugging at the corner of his lips. 

"She was so mad" she continued, "so mad, when she found out. She yelled at me. Called me stupid. Said that this was going to end badly and we both knew it... Said I was being reckless... and that you should've known better..." 

"She was scared for you" the Soldier said, his voice sounding weak to his own ears

"No, James... she was scared for us..." Iryna wiped the two tears that escaped her eyes and her breath caught in her throats before continuing, "She used to quote Shakespeare to me... over and over again... said it was the only way she could wrap her head around this romance..." 

The Soldier lifted the gun once more and pointed it at her chest. 

"Only I told her, this wasn't a romance..." Iryna continued, here eyes looking down at her hands.

He pulled the hammer back with his thumb, his finger on the trigger.

When she looked up again, all he could see were her determined eyes. 

"This is a tragedy..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, Kudos and constructive criticism are always welcome :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the delay but I had no inspiration to write this chapter and I'm still not very happy with it. 
> 
> Please let me know what you thought about it?

Iryna spent two weeks in the hospital, recovering from the gunshot wound to her side. The first week she was in and out of consciousness, too tired to keep her eyes open.

 

When she was finally strong enough to speak, her superiors came to her room to debrief her on the mission. She explained everything that happened, and they took notes, only asking a few questions and leaving without another word. Iryna desperately tried to ask what where they going to do to her and to her friend, where was Natasha. But all she got was silence. 

 

After blacking out, Iryna lost track of the rest of the mission and she didn’t know if Natasha had been able to hold on to the information they acquired. But to be perfectly honest, the mission’s success was the furthest thing from her mind, and her concern for her friend was the most present.

 

On her last night at the hospital, Iryna was lying in bed, with the covers pushed all the way to the foot of the bed because she felt hot and uncomfortable in her hospital gown, staring up at the ceiling, not able to fall asleep once again, when the sound of her door opening made her tense up and cast her eye in that direction. There wasn’t a lot of light coming from the hallway, but the shadow that creeped inside was large enough to be recognizable, even in the dark room.  
He closed the door softly and turned towards the bed. Iryna stayed quiet, unmoving, trying to understand what he was doing here. She tried to keep her breath as slow as possible, but she should’ve known better than to try and trick her handler.

 

“I know you’re awake” he whispered from the door.

 

When Iryna moved to her side to turn on the light in her nightstand, he spoke again, “Don’t”

 

She dropped her head back on her pillow, looking back at him but not able to see his face in the dark.

 

“Sir, what are you doing here? Is Natasha okay?” she whispered as well, afraid of being heard.

 

He didn’t reply and simply walked towards the bed, stopping at her feet. By moving closer to the bed, he was closer to the window as well, and the dim light from the moonlight was enough for Iryna to see half of his face.

 

Iryna was always a little too intimidated by her handler to actually admit that she thought he was handsome. But now looking at him, really looking, Iryna couldn’t deny that the Winter Soldier is, in fact, mesmerizing. His shoulder length dark brown hair suited him, and his light skin looked even paler in the moonlight, but no less desirable to touch.

 

Even though he always maintained a look that would make other men shiver, Iryna always thought he looked like he was in constant pain. Almost as he was always in constant conflict with his own mind, and that made her heart clench with sorrow.  
In more than one occasion, Iryna had indulged herself in daydreaming that she, one day, would be able to break the Winter Soldier’s constant look of anger and smooth the crinkles that had a permeant residence in his forehead and around his eyes. She thought about what it would be like to see that man relaxed. On the nights, and some days, that Iryna lost control of her own imagination, she had even thought about what would be like to see the Winter Soldier smile, but immediately chastising herself for thinking about something so foolish.  
Now, standing at the foot of her bed, staring at her, Iryna felt her heart beating faster with surprise at what she found in his eyes. The look of pain was back but this time, there was something more. Concern. He looked worried. His eyes moved from her face to her left arm where the IV needle was still in place and Iryna saw his jaw lock. His eyes returned to her own and she suddenly felt the need to reassure him.

 

“I’m okay… the doctors said that there was no damage to my organs or that I…” Iryna started.

 

“You got hurt…” he interrupted her, his eyes still fixed on hers. She looked away for a moment, his gaze to powerful to maintain.

 

“It’s just a gunshot… you must get those all the time…” she whispered, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

 

“I should’ve protected you…” he said, walking around the bed to stand on her left side, the light from the window now casting itself directly on his face, so Iryna could see all of him.

 

She swallowed the lump in her throat and wet her lips that had gone dry unexpectedly, looking up at him again “… There’s nothing you could’ve done… I was caught off guard… it won’t happen again… sir.”

 

At hearing the word Sir, the Soldier flinched, and his left hand curled into a fist, the metal plates of his arm adjusting, “… Don’t… don’t call me that…” he gritted through his teeth.

 

“Don’t call you what?” she asked.

 

“… Sir… don’t call me sir…” he said, looking down at Iryna’s hand and visibly taking deep breaths like he was trying to call down.

 

“What should I call you then?” she enquired, “You’re still my handler… aren’t you?”

 

When she realized what she said, Iryna’s mind went into a whirlwind of thoughts. Is that why he was here? To let her know that, even though the mission was successful, her failure wouldn’t be tolerated? But if that was the case, why treat her? They could’ve just let he die from the gunshot, blead to death. Did he come here to kill her? Had he decided that she’s not worth his training after all? What about Natasha? Is that why she hasn’t visited her in the hospital yet? Was Natasha dead?

 

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she felt his hand holding hers. She looked up at him, now aware that she was hyperventilating and had started to shiver. Focusing on his eyes again, she became acutely aware of how his flesh hand felt holding hers. His calloused fingers were a stark contrast with her smooth skin, but they still felt soothing. His hand was warm, warmer than she expected.

 

She closed her eyes for a single moment, willing her heart and breath to slow down, but while her breath responded to her will, her heart seemed to beat even faster. She felt his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand and when she opened her eyes again, the look she found in his almost made her heart stop all together. for the first time in all the months they’ve been working together, never had Iryna seen that look in his eyes. Where once she found only rage, sadness and, at times, confusion, now she found focus, calmness and something she couldn’t even dare to believe it, let alone say it out loud in fear of loosing it… adoration.

 

“I’m sure Natasha is fine” he whispered when she finally calmed down enough to understand and process his words, “I saw her a few days ago when she was taken to be debriefed on our mission.” He stated, still rubbing his thumb on her hand.

 

“Have you seen her since then? Did they tell you anything about the mission? Do you…”

 

“They said that, despite the fact that you got shot, and that there were more agents on sight than what they expected, the mission was successful. The intended targets are dead and the information’s secure.” He explained, “I asked them about your training, and they said that Natasha had already gone through the Graduation Ceremony and that… Iryna? What’s wrong?”

 

At the words “Graduation Ceremony”, Iryna tensed, her eyes became wider and her breath hitched. The hand holding her handler squeezed tighter in fear, but the Soldier couldn’t understand the sudden horror that was now crossing Iryna’s dark eyes.

 

Natasha had already graduated. That means they did it. They cut her. Iryna started to panic. If Natasha graduated, and the mission was a success, that means they would do the same thing to her too. Natasha had become a Widow, and now she was going to be one too. The feeling of panic increased ten-fold at that thought.

 

“Iryna” his voice broke her panicked thoughts “what’s the matter?”

 

She swallowed the lump of fear that was currently growing in her throat and tried her best to stop shaking. Her voice broke when she tried to speak again, and it sounded so weak that the Soldier felt his heart ache.

 

“W-when… when did you see Natasha, e-exactly?” she asked.

 

The Soldier thought for a few moments before answering, “Three days after we arrived from the mission, I think… why?”

 

“Was she with someone?”

 

Again, the Soldier thought back to when he last saw his red-head student, following behind two women, her eyes forward, her posture rigid and not acknowledging him when they crossed each other in the hallway.

 

“Two women, one I believe was your headmistress, but the other…” he said.

 

“Was the other wearing a white lab coat, with the Red Room symbol on it?” Iryna was almost 100% certain what his answer was going to be. And when he nodded, the tears that she’d been holding back welled up in her eyes and started to fall.

 

Her best friend, the person she loved most in this world had been forcibly cut, and Iryna wasn’t there to comfort her.

 

“Iryna, please tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying? What happened to Natasha?” he let go of her hand but immediately moved it to her cheek, his thumb wiping the tears away and gently moving her head, so she would look at him again. Those questions stun her because he genuinely sounded afraid and confused about why she was crying and why she got scared when he spoke of the ceremony. Realization dawned in her mind and she forced her wet eyes to open.

 

“You don’t know…” it wasn’t a question. And the look of confusion resurfaced in his face.

 

“What don’t I know? Iryna, what…”

 

“You don’t know… what the ceremony is. What’s the last step to become a Widow…” again, she wasn’t asking him.

 

“I… I d-don’t…” for the first time, since he entered the room, the Soldier was at loss for words. Since he was brought into the Red Room by his own handlers and was ordered to assist in selecting viable recruits, the Winter Soldier learned a few things about the process just by observing his surroundings. He knew the girls were trained intensely to the point of breaking, and then some more. He knew weakness wasn’t tolerated. He knew that the ones that showed weakness, were never seen again. And he also knew that only a handful of girls would be given the title of Widows after their training was complete. But he never knew exactly what was required of them to receive that title. And he also never asked. But now, looking into Iryna’s eyes and seeing her fear for her friend and for herself, the Soldier began to feel fearful himself. When he recognized the emotion that was starting to seep into his bones, he smothered it with the only other emotion he knew that was strong enough for him to function, rage.

 

“What do they do to you?” he growled, his metal hand moving to the other side of her face, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to continue to look at him. His sudden change in demeanour scared Iryna. The eyes that a few seconds ago showed concern for her, now were beginning to grow cold and terrifying, “tell me.”

 

“T-they…” Iryna wet her lips and tried once more, “They tell us that it’s the only way for us to be strong, unbreakable. They say that it’s our last remaining weakness, and that it should be removed…” her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.

 

“What do they remove? What do they do to you, Iryna?” He raised his voice, growing angrier by the second just by seeing her look afraid.

 

She pauses, gathering her strength to say out loud the words she feared most. “…They sterilize us…” she whispers.

 

He freezes. Did he hear her correctly? Did she say what he thinks she just said? 

 

“Why would they…” he starts but doesn’t finish, the answer to his own question coming to his mind immediately. Control. No distractions. Being Widows means living for the mission, not for anyone else.

 

His rage burned inside him. His protective feelings towards both girls flared and the desire kill anyone that dared to touch them was so intense that made his entire body shake.

 

It was Iryna’s hands on his that brought him back to the room and to her. His eyes focused on her hand holding his metal one and was stunned to see that she touched it without fear or disgust. She held his hands like they were both made of flesh, like he wasn’t incomplete, like he wasn’t a monster.

 

“I won’t let them touch you” he gritted through his teeth, “I won’t let them come anywhere near you to…”

 

“You have to… I have to… it’s the only way…” she said.

 

“No. No, there has to be another way.” He shook his head and tried to come up with solutions to keep Iryna safe. The mere thought of them coming for her and forcing her to… to…

 

“There is no other way. If I don’t go through with the Graduation Ceremony… they’ll kill me.”

 

The Soldier’s blood froze in his veins when she said that. No matter how much he wanted to protect her, he knew she was right. And the idea of loosing her was even more terrifying than the knowledge of what they were going to do to her.

 

“You need to check on Natasha for me” Iryna spoke again, but this time, her voice sounded stronger than before, even if he could still hear the small undertones of fear in it. He knew she was trying to be brave. “They won’t tell me anything, but they might tell you.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He replied  
“Please, sir. I need to know that she’s okay… There’s no stopping them when they come for me. Now I understand why she haven’t come to visit me. She’s probably still here, in one of the rooms. You can use her recruit number to find where she is and-“

 

“James.”

 

“W-what?” Iryna was confused at the sudden interruption.

 

“My name… is James” he whispered. His eyes were large in surprise, like he had just found the world’s greatest treasure.

 

“James…” she tried the name on her lips and smiled when his breath hitched at the sound of her voice, speaking his name.

 

“Say… say that again…” he asked, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. The girl smiled at him once more and he felt her hands squeezing his again. His hands were still on her cheeks, her smooth skin feeling warm against his palms.

 

She took a deep breath and tried to sit up. Groaning with pain that burned from her left side, she placed her hands on the bed and pushed up. His hands left her cheeks and travelled to her shoulders, helping her move and sitting on the bed as well to be at the same eye level as her.

 

Now being face to face, Iryna looked at him intently, and he stared back at her. The only sound in the room was of their combined breathing and the light that came from the window was no beginning to grow lighter, announcing dawn’s arrival.

 

 

Moving slowly, and never once breaking eye contact, Iryna lifted her hand and brushed her fingertips on his cheek. When he didn’t move away, she gently placed her palm on his cheek, feeling his warm but rough skin. He leaned into her touch and moved closer. Unconsciously, Iryna moved too, only realizing she’d done it when they were so close to each other, she could feel his breath on her face, his forehead slowly leaning towards hers.

 

He breathed in deep, begging the time to stop moving so they could stay like this forever. Being this close to her brought back the memory of that day in Edinburgh, when she was shot. But he wasn’t thinking about the horror and panic he felt when he felt her blood soaking through his clothes when he picked her up and ran. The memory was of them, sitting in the snow, in Arthur’s Seat. She was in his lap, shivering in cold and shock and he was desperately trying to keep her warm. He remembered lowering his head to hers, his lips brushing her forehead and his nose on her hair. He remembered she smelled like flowers, but he didn’t know which one. Now, being this close to her again, the image of endless purple fields of lavender crossed his mind. Closing his eyes and breathing in deeply, he let her smell envelop him, her hand still holding his cheek and her thumb caressing it. And when he heard her voice again, his lips curled into a smile, bigger than he ever thought possible.

 

“James…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter: 
> 
> "Come what may" Moulin Rouge soundtrack
> 
> "Young and Beautiful" Lana Del Rey


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never and better small than nothing at all... right? (: 
> 
> I’m so sorry, please don’t kill me for being so late... and for what happens in this chapter *hides in the corner*

Another click. 3 shots down. 4 to go. James drops the gun once more on the table with a loud clang. Iryna takes another deep breath but it’s ragged, her body shivering. The blood on her skin has long turned dark and crusted, drying on her pale and soft skin. James tries to remember how soft her skin was under his fingertips. It’s been more than a while since he touched her. Not the hurried and hidden touches they grew so accustomed to, trying so hard not to be spotted, so no one would find their secret. But the real touches. The ones that made him feel like he was home. The ones that reminded him that he was a man, not a machine. How he longed to holder again. To squeeze her to his chest, to bury his nose in her hair and be drowned in her scent. If he had known that this would be the result, he wouldn’t have bothered to hide. He would let them come for them, but at least he’d have what he wanted.

No… that was a selfish thought. He may have gotten what he wanted, but Iryna would be here with him all the same. But maybe things would be different. Maybe they could kill them both at the same time. They couldn’t be together in life, perhaps in death they’d let them be. But deep down, James knows that would never happen. They’d still be here, and those bastards would still have tortured his Iryna, and the gun would still be on the table, and this hell would still be real.  
The silence is deafening. The kind that makes you feel claustrophobic. James hates the silence more than he hates the darkness or the cold. He knows Iryna would disagree with him. She’d say that darkness was a lot more terrifying. That you never know what can reach for you in the dark, what sort of monsters lurk in the corners.

Surprisingly, they had this conversation during a mission, hiding somewhere, in some city in doesn’t remember, from someone he doesn’t recall. It was poring rain and they took cover in an abandoned warehouse for the night. It was pitch black, freezing and they couldn’t light a fire to try and stay warm and give them some light, in fear of attracting attention. He remembers that Iryna slowly creeped closer and closer to him until he replied what was she doing. “I hate the dark” she said. James scoffed because how can an assassin be afraid of the dark. She replied that she didn’t know, she just was, and that Natalia had always held her hand during the night, reassuring her that she wasn’t alone. They stayed silent for a while, until the soldier reached in her direction, finding her wrist in the darkness. Her breath hitched when James pulled her closer. “We need to stay warm or you’ll get hypothermia” he whispered. It was her turn to scoff. “Me? What about you?”. When he felt her body closer, he wrapped his flesh arm around her shoulders, her head leaning on his shoulder. “I can’t get hypothermia”. None of them slept, too hyped from the mission to properly rest. So, they talked. Well, Iryna talked. James listened, enthralled by her stories of her childhood, what she remembered of her parents, of growing up with Natalia, of what happened when the Red Room agent came for them, of her fears, of what she missed about “normal” life. When dawn rose, so did they. Muscles stiff from the cold and looking like they had both been run over by a car. In the daylight, James could see the marks that covered Iryna’s skin. Bruises, cuts, scratches, she had a little and a lot of everything. James, on the other hand, looked the same, except his hair looked a little greasier. No cuts, nor marks, and that always made Iryna frown. How did that man always came out of missions unscathed, she will never know. And it’s weird because she’d seen him take more of a beating than she ever did and whatever marks he may have, were always gone the next day.

“I miss your frown” James blurts out before he can stop himself.

Iryna looks up and frowns, her eyes still puffy and rimmed with red. Tear tracks marking her cheeks. “My frown?”

“The same one you’re doing right now” he says, “and I miss that face you do when you’re focused on something, or thinking too hard”

Iryna stares at James like he’s gone completely mad. Maybe he has. Seeing someone you care so much about in pain and being physically and psychologically tortured can drive anyone insane. But even though Iryna make think that, James has never been clearer headed than he is right now. He cares about the woman sitting in front of him, and if this is the last time they’ll see each other, then James is going to say everything he wishes. There’s no point in hiding anymore. They know. They know about them. They know that James is remembering… something… but he is remembering. One way or the other, one of them isn’t leaving this room, so might as well just put it all out there.

“I miss… I miss your smell too. And the touch of your skin. How it feels when you card your fingers through my hair. Or you cup my cheeks” James continues to speak, not caring that their handlers are in the next room, hearing every word he says. He’s done hiding. Let them know. Let them kill him for what he’s doing. Let them put a bullet in his head and end his suffering, end the cold and the electric shocks.

“James…” Iryna sobs. She can’t believe her ears. To say all those things out in the open. A few days ago, Iryna would have jumped to cover his mouth, fearing someone might hear them. Now, she can’t move, entranced by his words. Of all the time they’ve been together, James always spoke very little, letting his actions do the talking for him, but now… he can’t just seem to stay quiet. Like he’s been holding back for so long that all he wants to do now is get it all out of his chest.

“You know what’s funny?” he asks, looking straight into her eyes, green meeting dark brown, “I don’t remember my home… but every time I’m close to you, I remember what it feels like to be at home… to have a home” he rambles. He knows he’s rambling, but he still doesn’t care. “And the more time I spend with you, the clearer my mind gets. I remembered my name. And I remembered… I remembered I liked reading because you were talking about buying a book for N…her birthday… and I remembered a flying car for some reason, because you started talking about computers and technology and a flying car popped into my head, and fireworks… I remembered all of these things and some more, while I was with you. And the more I remembered, the more I felt…”

Iryna tries and fails to hold in her small smile. Her lips burn from the stretch and her cheeks ache from the bruises and cuts, but she can’t stop herself from smiling. So, James continues. “Every moment I spent with you this past year made me feel more alive than I ever thought possible… I may not know who I am, yet, but meeting you made me realize who I want to be… and that’s yours. I want to be yours, Iryna”. James doesn’t feel the tears falling from his eyes until one of them drops onto his right hand, the small teardrop leaving a wet trail behind. “I don’t know why, and I know this sounds foolish and impossible for us… but God knows how much I care about you. I can’t keep my heart from pounding inside my chest every time I see you or hear your voice. At first, it was dull, like an old and rusty machine starting to work again. But the more I saw you train, the more I saw you fight, and heard you speak, and watched you plan missions, and saw you daydreaming, and sleeping, the harder my heartbeat every time, and the clearer my mind got. How I managed to keep that hidden from them, I don’t even know myself. All I knew was that the more time I had with you, the more I wanted it. And you blame yourself for what happened before Paris… you shouldn’t. because I don’t regret a single second of it. I don’t regret what I said, and I certainly don’t regret what we did. And if this is my last chance to look into your eyes, then fuck it, I’m just going to say it… I- “

Before James could say anything else, the door slammed open and the soldier from before walked in, the captain trailing behind him. Both men stood behind Iryna and the captain pulled his gun from its holster, pointing it at the back of Iryna head.

“Enough.” the man pushed the barrel of the gun into the back of Iryna’s head and she whimpered. “Pick up the gun, girl. Point it at him and shoot.”  
Iryna pulled her hands closer to her chest and stiffened her spine. She stood up straighter and gazed forward, her eyes locking onto James. The soldier had no time to react as the captain pulled the gun back from the girls’ head and slammed the grip of it on Iryna’s head, making her fall forward and hit her forehead on the table.

She cried out in pain and blood splattered on the table, her wounds reopening. She stayed down, her forehead on the table and a small pool of blood started to form. James jumped forward to reach for her, shouting her name, but the soldier pointed his gun and James’s forehead, daring him to move closer.

Iryna was crying again, her body shaking from the pain and panic. James sat back on his chair, his eyes jumping between the barrel of the gun pointed at him, and the girl sitting in front of him.

The pool of blood grew with each passing second and James watched, horrified, as the captain grabbed a fistful of Iryna’s dark brown hair, the girl screeching in pain, and pulled her head back, her neck snapping back so hard that James was almost surprised that it didn’t break right there.  
The captain made Iryna look up into his eyes as he forced her mouth open with his gun and pressed the barrel inside, her lips stretching around the gun. “Either you shoot him, or I shoot you. Choose.”

The mood shifted. Iryna gasped and chocked on the gun, still deep inside her mouth, her neck straining back and her hair being pulled to the point of bleeding. But her eyes didn’t flinch. She stared straight at the captain, and James watched as her body turned rigid and her fists clenched.  
James knew that posture. He knew that look. It was the same one she carried whenever she and Natalia argued about something and Iryna wouldn’t compromise. It was the same posture she had whenever she decided something and neither heaven nor hell could convince her to change her mind. It was the same posture she had when she asked James if he wanted her to leave his room and never touch him again. James knew that posture. And from the depths of his mind, James had a flash of a burning warehouse and his knuckles wrapped tightly around a railing, his voice cracking as he screamed “No! Not without you!”

His brain supplied him with the word to recognize the feeling that made his heart beat faster, his palms sweat and his ears ring. Panic.

“Suit yourself, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOHOO IM BACK,BABY!! *cue the trumpets* 
> 
> Alright, it’s been close to 4 months since my last update and I’m terribly sorry about that. But I have a very good explanation for that, so here it goes: 
> 
> 1) I am officially finished with university. I am now, officially, a university graduate in Clinical Psychology. My delay in writing and posting this update was due to being chin deep in papers, books and scientific articles in order to complete my master thesis. But it’s finished now, so that’s that. 
> 
> 2) Due to the pressure and stress that originated from justification number 1, my mental health deteriorated rapidly, leaving me in an obsessive, anxiety filled, depressive state that didn’t allow me to see much else beyond my computer screen and the word document that used to be my thesis. 
> 
> But anywho, that’s all done and finished and now I’m back. 
> 
> In other news (better news), thanks to finally being free of all that work, I decided to participate in this years NaNoWriMo, which motivated me to start writing again and go back to my hobbies such as reading, blogging and photography :) 
> 
> So, hopefully, this and my other fic (Playlist Number 3) will start to be updated more regularly. 
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, let me know in the comments. If you haven’t left Kudos already, make sure to do it now. And if you like to talk to me a little more and scream at me for taking so long to write and/or because of the chapter you just read, follow me on Tumblr (@bookwormmads) 
> 
> Happy Readings!!


	7. Update from the author

Hey everyone :) I'm so sorry for the delay in updates with this fic but i hit a wall with it and i have no clue how to continue this story. i'm re writing and editing some chapters which i'll publish when they're ready but i just wanted to let you all know that I'm not giving up on this fic. I just had a lot on my mind lately, my mental health isn't in its best shape and honestly, i've just been feeling really overwhelmed and anxious lately without any particular reason and it's starting to get a little frustrating. Anyway, just wanted to give you this little update. please don't give up on this fic because I'm not going to either.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos!


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